


Hard to Explain

by MildredMost



Series: Is This It [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cheating Harry, Dark Magic, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Hate Sex, M/M, Mindfuck, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Rape/Non-con, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6915241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildredMost/pseuds/MildredMost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is so desperate to avoid the misery of post-war Malfoy Manor, that he and Ron and have fallen into an enemies-with-benefits arrangement. They don't expect Harry to catch them out. </p><p>“Have you forgotten he tried to kill you?” Harry said, as though Draco hadn’t spoken.<br/>“Oh piss off Potter, I didn’t try to kill <i>him</i>, I was trying to kill Dumbledore.”<br/>“Malfoy, will you please just fucking <i>shut it</i>,” said Ron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard to Explain

 Meeting up with Ron had become a bit of a habit for Draco. He wasn’t sure if he looked forward to it exactly, and he didn’t think Ron did either, but it seemed to suit them both for the moment.

Also the sex was bloody incredible.

And anything was better than being at the Manor these days, watching his parents slowly shrink in on themselves. They lived in only a couple of rooms of the house now, having no elves to take care of the place, and it was grubby and messy and miserable and there was never anything to eat. Not that they didn’t have money; they simply didn’t seem to know how anything worked.

Draco found watching his mother attempt housekeeping spells so depressing he felt like setting the whole place on fire. His father spent most of his time pouring over the Daily Prophet, reading imagined slights into the most minor mention of the Malfoy name and brooding over reports of the war trials. An evening spent in the chilly, cobwebbed Great Hall with his mother making brittle conversation and drinking sherry from a smeary glass while his father stared into the inadequate fire was just about all Draco could take.

Worst of all, he knew all this had happened because of him. They’d been destroyed because of his failures, and he was, what? This weak, petty creature, being shitty to his mother, disagreeing with everything his father said just to get a rise out of him. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them, because he did. It was just that the weight of it felt like it was crushing everything out of him.

He wished...he didn’t know what he wished. He used to be so sure of himself.

He spent most of his time in London now, camping out in a room above the Leaky Cauldron, pretending to his parents he was terribly busy. Doing what, they never asked. Having his stupid panic attacks, mostly. At least there was no silence here for his brain to strive to fill with black thoughts, the constant noise of Muggle London saw to that thank God.  

Usually he and Ron would meet in a muggle pub, like they had that first time after the Yaxley trial. Sometimes they’d almost get along if they kept to neutral subjects. Well, subject. Quidditch was the only thing they could talk about without getting in a fight. The other times, when Draco was anxious and hadn’t slept or Ron was morose or preoccupied, they would snipe at each other until it turned into a shouting match, then tumble out of the pub, furious, and apparate somewhere dark for a quick fuck.

Tonight they’d got along alright, after a few drinks. Draco had been edgy with anticipation all day. And _fuck_ Ron had looked good when he turned up; rain-damp hair falling in his eyes and a new shirt with the cuffs rolled back, revealing the network of silver scars that covered his forearms. Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off him. Everything he did wound Draco up more - the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the way his pale eyelashes closed over the blue of his eyes when he laughed. Even the slightest touch sent him reeling, like he’d had a layer of skin removed. Ron seemed to be similarly on edge, jumping when Draco’s knee accidentally nudged his under the table, and looking quickly away when Draco caught him staring at Draco’s mouth.

They drank in silence for a while until Draco reached out and ran his thumb over one of Ron’s scars, and that was enough. Ron had breathed out and said “Do you want to come home with me?”

Draco, head blurred with lust, had nodded.

He’d never been asked up to Ron’s flat before. Not that he got to see much of it; they only got as far as the hallway before Ron rammed Draco against the wall and kissed him until Draco couldn’t think straight.

As Ron yanked at his shirt, Draco dipped into Ron’s mind - just skating gently over the surface of it. He found it hard not to do this during sex, he had started it the first time Dolohov had - Draco’s mind skittered over the terminology - _had_ him. Draco had been terrified and it just happened, had made it more bearable knowing when it would end.

Tonight was the opposite of... _that._ He didn’t want it to end quickly, although if he left things to Ron they would barely get their belts undone before they had both come. He was so frantic; he was like a fucking teenager. Draco shoved Ron away slightly, revelling in the fact that he _could_ , that he could stop everything and start everything as he pleased. Ron stepped back and watched him, breathing hard.

“Don’t you want…” Ron began.

“I want everything,” said Draco, enjoying the way Ron’s face flushed red at his words. “Just slow the fuck down.” Pulling him back towards him, he undid Ron’s jeans and began a torturously slow hand job, staring into his eyes in a vicious challenge. Ron stared back, hands braced against the wall above Draco’s head, letting out a quiet moan every time Draco passed a teasing thumb over the head of his cock. Draco loved how much Ron wanted him.

 _His mouth, his fucking mouth_ , Ron was thinking. _His lips are so...god I’m close, need to stop, need to…want to fuck him but don’t know if I’ll last..._

Draco parted his lips, wetting them with his tongue, letting his breath warm Ron’s throat.

_...Looks so filthy when he does that, wonder if he knows...course he fucking does._

Draco bit down on a smile and slowed his hand, enjoying Ron’s exasperated cry.

“Don’t stop…”

“You’re so selfish Weasley. What about me?” said Draco.

“I dunno. What about you?” said Ron with a grin, and kissed him, hard enough to push his head back against the wall. Draco sighed and bucked up against him, and Ron kissed him harder, kicking Draco’s legs wider apart to press against him.

Draco moved his hand faster and Ron moaned against his mouth. He was so satisfyingly straightforward, Draco thought; so easy to please. He just liked looking at Draco, and being kissed, and getting his big cock yanked as hard as possible.

He touched Ron more slowly and teasingly again, enjoying the exasperated little sounds Ron made, and the way he squirmed against him for more friction. For a moment Draco’s head was filled by a flash of memory of Yaxley and Carrow tormenting him, holding him down and stroking his cock, keeping him on the edge of orgasm for an hour. They’d laughed at him as he’d begged them. And then when he had been allowed to come they kept touching him and touching him until he was screaming at them to stop, his cock as raw as if it has been flayed.

 _Not now._ Not letting that in his head now. This was different; he wasn’t like them. He put up a wall against the memories and let his mind drift into Ron again.

He felt Ron’s thoughts scatter and knew he was close.

_He smells so good he_

_Oh that’s…that’s…_

_Ohhh my fucking God he’s so_

_Want to finish in his mouth, fuck…I’m_

Ron was too distracted to hear the door open and click closed again, but Draco did. Raising his grey eyes lazily, he was met by green unblinking ones.

Harry stood in the hall, a bag of chips in his hand.

Fucking _Potter._ Of course Ron lived with him, why hadn’t he thought of it. He wondered if Ron had brought him back here on purpose to stir things up. Unlikely. Still, would be fun to make the most of the opportunity.

“ _Ron,”_ Harry blurted out eventually and something about the confused fear on his face made Draco want to lash out at him. Idiot.

Out of spite Draco sent a jag of ‘ _Imperius_ ’ at Ron. _Don’t hear him, only me. Say my name, let him hear you say my name._

“ _Draco_ …” Ron moaned and Draco smiled as he watched Harry’s reaction over Ron’s shoulder, his hand still moving up and down Ron’s cock.

“RON.” Harry lobbed the bag of chips at Ron’s head.

Ron shook off the _Imperius_ and the chips like a large dog shaking water out of his coat. He looked over his shoulder, an almost comical expression of horror on his face.

“Shit. _Harry_ …” he backed away from Draco, trying to shove himself back into his jeans, but Harry wasn’t looking at him; he was staring hard at Draco.

Draco looked boldly back, not moving from where he leant against the wall, his shirt still open from where Ron had torn at it, hair falling into his eyes. He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, pulling the fabric obscenely tight over his erection. Let him have a good fucking look then.

Harry took two steps across the hall to Draco and shoved his wand into Draco’s throat.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Harry said. “Ron are you...Malfoy, what have you …?”

“Get off me,” Draco spat. Harry jabbed the wand up under his jaw. The arrogant arsehole. “Going to give me another scar, match the one on my chest?”

“ _Wait_ , Harry,” Ron said fumbling with the final button on his jeans. “It’s okay.”

“What’s okay?” Harry said. “Ron. Tell me…tell me what’s happening because this isn’t right. You and... him?”

“Well apparently you don’t want him, Potter,” Draco said and enjoyed the look on Harry’s face.

“That’s not what I meant.” Harry turned to Ron. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Alright Harry, I get it,” said Ron. He shrugged. “It just happened, ok.”

“Many times,” Draco interjected.

“I’m drunk,” Ron said.

“You weren’t the first time we did it, Weasley,” Draco said and Ron looked at him murderously.

Harry was still staring from Draco to Ron and back again, eyes round with shock.

“You never said,” he said to Ron at last. “I didn’t even know you were…”

“Oh come on,” said Draco, beginning to laugh. “You’ve never noticed that Weasley likes men too? He’s obsessed with you.”

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Ron said dangerously, and Draco did, at least for a moment. This was too much fun though.

Harry swallowed. “No. I knew about…men.”

“I’m not,” Ron said to Harry, “Obsessed.”

Harry nodded slowly.

“I thought you were meant to be away on…” Ron stopped as Harry’s eyes widened and shot a look at Draco. “On the thing. For the Department.”

“That’s over. I’m not talking about that just now. Not with _him…”_

“I only meant – I wouldn’t have done this, here, if I thought you’d be…”

Draco thought if he had to listen to this stuttering, constipated conversation for a moment longer he’d scream.

“Let’s go to your room,” he said to Ron.

“Have you forgotten he tried to kill you?” Harry said, as though Draco hadn’t spoken.

“Oh piss off Potter, I didn’t try to kill _him_ , I was trying to kill Dumbledore.”

“Malfoy, will you please just fucking _shut it_ ,” said Ron.

“Tell _him_ to shut it!” Draco yelled. Something about Harry always made him revert to a sulky teenager. He went pink and Ron started to laugh weakly.

“For God’s sake.”

“He’s a murdering little shit,” Harry said. “How can you...”

“Oh my god. I’m the only person in this room who’s never killed anyone at all,” said Draco.

“Harry,” Ron wiped a hand across his face. His expression changed. “Jesus. Was there curry sauce on those chips?” He clutched at one of his eyes.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Cheers mate,” said Ron. “Perfect.”

Draco could see the greeny-brown sludge in Ron’s hair and smeared across his face, and wrinkled his nose.

“Sorry. I panicked,” said Harry.

“I wish you’d have ketchup like a normal person. _Fuck_ , that hurts. I’m going for a shower. Stay here. Don’t kill each other.”

Ron rushed to the bathroom and banged the door.

Harry wheeled around on Draco and Draco reached for the wand in his pocket.

“If you’re doing something to him, making him do this…” said Harry, grabbing Draco’s wrist so he couldn’t get at his wand and jabbing his own wand into Draco’s chest.

“Oh, I’ll be doing something to him. Nothing he doesn’t ask for though.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure every time I touch his dick he wishes it was you. Now get off me.” He wrenched his wrist away.

“Just shut up. There’s never been anything like that between me and Ron. I don’t even…I like women.”

“You’re so deluded,” said Draco, looking him up and down. “The pair of you…it’s as obvious as the scar on your head.”

Harry bit his lip. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, taking his wand off Draco’s chest. Draco touched the spot where Harry’s wand had been and smirked. Harry must be angry; there would be a blister there later.

“He’s really big,” he said conversationally, putting his hands in his pockets. “I expect you know that though. You must have seen him hard before.”

Harry shook his head. Draco leant forward, put his lips to Harry’s ear.

“Liar,” he said.

Harry flinched away.

“Really big and really strong,” Draco continued. “Fucks me raw and kisses me after. If you were wondering.”

“Shut up. Stop talking about him like that.”

Draco revelled for a moment in how much he was messing up Potter’s head. He looked like he’d been beaten round the skull with a Quidditch bat. He took a step closer to Harry, who didn’t move.

“He’s big enough that you feel like you might split open,” Draco said. “It’s so good. He’d fuck you too, if you asked him. If that turned you on. Does it turn you on?”

He watched as an ugly red blush crept up Harry’s neck to his face. _Interesting_. Harry had always seemed so relentlessly straight. Draco smiled at him and Harry closed his eyes. _Game over_ , thought Draco, and kissed him.

Harry’s eyes flew back open.

“ _Does_ it turn you on? You taste turned on,” Draco murmured and kissed him again, harder this time, feeling Harry’s mouth opening under his. Harry mostly tasted of beer, to be honest.

Harry let out a shaky breath and Draco yanked him against him roughly. _He’s hard_ , Draco thought. _Tonight is just full of surprises_. He slipped his hand down the loose waistband of Harry’s jeans, wrapping his hand around Harry’s erection.

“ _’I like women’_ ,” Draco mocked, and stroked him.

“Get _off_ me,” Harry said, trembling. But before Draco could release him Harry was kissing him back, thrusting up into his hand, grabbing at Draco’s waist to steady himself. Draco laughed at him.

“Thought so.”

He was just starting to undo Harry’s jeans when his arm was caught at the elbow by a strong hand.

“Malfoy you _prick_ ,” Ron said. Draco looked around to see Ron fresh out of the shower, a towel at his hips, hair damp against his forehead. Harry was looking too. My god was Harry looking too.

“Ron,” he said. “I don’t know what I…”

Draco let Ron drag him away from Harry. What would Ron do now, he wondered.

“Did he just force you to do that?” Ron said. “A hex or something? He’s got some nasty shit up his sleeve you know.”

“Force him?” Draco said. “I practically had to fight him off.”

“You’re telling me that while I was in the shower, out of nowhere Harry decided he likes men? And wants to...with _you_ Malfoy? Give me a fucking break.”

“Is that really so bloody difficult to…”

“It’s not out of nowhere,” Harry interrupted loudly. Ron and Draco turned to look at him.

“I...it’s. Not out of nowhere,” he said, and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. Draco laughed delightedly.

“Oh I see Potter. This explains you following me into the bathroom in Sixth year at last.”

“I’m not talking about you, you dickhead,” said Harry. “I meant liking men. Fucks sake.”

Ron just stared, putting both of his hands on his head as if shielding himself from something.

Draco looked at both of them. My god, this was amusing. “This is a bit pathetic, isn’t it? I thought you two were best friends.”

“Maybe you should go, Malfoy,” said Ron, not looking at him.

“Maybe _he_ should go, he’s the one who interrupted us.”

“We should probably talk about this or something,” Harry said awkwardly, obviously trying not to stare at the taut muscles in Ron’s bare chest. “Ron?”

“Yeah,” said Ron. “Probably.” He dropped his hands to his sides. Harry made an involuntary movement and circled his fingers around one of Ron’s wrists, and Ron breathed out hard. Draco felt invisible suddenly.

“I couldn’t have told you,” Harry said. “I didn’t get it. Then when I did, it never seemed right to mention it. Even to you.”

“Course you could’ve told me,” said Ron gently, and Harry’s hand tightened around Ron’s wrist, tugging him slightly closer to him.

Draco was about to protest that surely Ron was his for tonight, first come first fucked, But Ron was turning to Harry like a flower opening up towards the sun (and of course Harry was the sun, he always had to be the centre of the bloody universe).

“Idiot,” Ron said softly, smiling at him and Harry sagged against him for a moment. Then he reached up and, grabbing a handful of his friend’s bright hair, kissed Ron fiercely.

Draco was transfixed for a moment as he watched them sway against each other, fitting together so naturally it seemed as if they must have been doing this for years. Ron had a hand cupped around Harry’s jaw and Harry still held a fistful of Ron’s hair.

They looked like they belonged together in a way that he knew he and Ron didn’t and never would and it felt like shit.

“Harry,” Ron breathed, as Harry broke away from the kiss at last, looking up at Ron, a small smile on his face.

Draco felt a surge of hatred and contempt for the look of wonder, of happiness that passed between them. He wanted to fuck them up, wanted to pull them to pieces. Harry always had to mess everything up, didn’t he? Always had to take anything of Draco’s away. Ron had been his. Well not his, but they had been…the _sex_ had been…and he’d been able to hold Harry not knowing over Ron’s head. He didn’t have that any more now either.

He contemplated sending an impotency curse at the pair of them but that would mean he definitely wouldn’t get a fuck off Ron so he didn’t. There were other ways to tear things up though.  

“Does he kiss better than his sister then?” he said to Harry.

“For fuck’s sake Malfoy,” said Ron.

“That’s probably where you just were, wasn’t it?” Draco continued. “Cock not even recovered from her and now you want to do her brother as well.”

He watched Harry’s face crumple with guilt and felt delighted. Fuck _him_. He’d probably give Ron up now, like the idiot he was. Good.

“Didn’t know you were into incest, Potter,” Draco said. “Working your way through the Weasleys.”

“It’s not…”

“It sort of is, isn’t it? Come on,” said Draco.

Harry wiped his hand across his mouth as if it tasted bitter.

“I mean, you can’t sleep with Weasley, not now. Can you? That would be really, really fucked up.”

“I swear to god…” Ron said furiously, “Just leave it. Harry don’t listen to him, he’s just trying to…”

But Harry had stepped an arm’s length away from Ron. Christ it looked like he might even cry.

“You want him right after he’s been with your sister? I thought I was the fucked up one,” Draco sneered at Ron.

“You don’t even know…”

“Here,” Draco snatched Harry’s wand. “ _Prior Incantato_.” The shimmer of a birth control spell hung in the air for a moment. “Just practicing, were you Potter?”

Ron went pale and said nothing.

“So why aren’t you there with her now?” said Draco, half trouble-making, half curious.

“She...we argued. I left, went to the pub instead. We didn’t even get as far as...And it’s none of your _business_ …”

“Shame,” Draco said to Harry. “For you I mean. You’re missing out.”  He stalked over to Harry, throwing his wand back at him, taking advantage of his confusion to crowd him up against the wall.

“Get away from me Malfoy,” Harry said, furious.

“No need to be so rude. Not my fault you chose the wrong Weasley,” said Draco. He shoved at Harry with an unspoken spell, a nasty little bit of dark magic that was just on the right side of the law, snapping Harry’s head back against the wall. A foe detector went off somewhere in the living room and Ron swore and grabbed a handful of Draco’s hair, his wand at Draco’s throat.

“You need to _fucking_ behave yourself,” he said. “I work for the Ministry if you’d forgotten. This is still Harry Potter. I won’t let you…”

Draco lost his temper and lashed out at Ron with the _Imperius_ again. But Ron blocked it immediately this time and Draco felt something go wrong. Shit, shit. Instead of Ron doing his bidding he had opened himself to Ron entirely.

Ron’s mind hit him with the force of a freezing wave, knocking him under, dragging him along. He couldn’t make sense of it. They weren’t even memories, just a feeling of brilliant, painful love, but so mixed up in jealousy, denial, secrecy, longing. He wanted it out, wanted it out _now_ , it hurt too much…

Ron had sensed something, and had taken his wand off Draco’s neck, stepped away, but it hadn’t helped, hadn’t stopped this flood of feeling. Draco looked over at Harry and the feeling intensified beyond what was bearable. He looked so beautiful. He’d let him kiss him just now and Harry had kissed him back, so that must mean...oh please let it mean something. Please.

“Please,” Draco heard himself say, cupping the side of Harry’s face. Harry’s eyes widened, his lips opening, and Draco couldn’t stop himself from kissing him so softly and gently, both his hands sliding into Harry’s hair. He felt Harry relax against him, it felt so right, and he heard himself say “I’ve wanted this for so long,” and Harry sighed and some of the spell, the magic that was filling Draco’s whole being flowed away from him into Harry and... had Harry called him ‘Ron’? _No, this was...it was he who had wanted Harry all these years. Draco. Not. Was this?_

With a rush Draco found his footing, came back to himself, pushed Ron out of his head, shielded his mind again. _Fuck_. He felt breathless from the strength of what he’d felt. How could Ron carry it around with him, so raw like that? It was mad, sickening. And worst of all, Draco couldn’t think of a way to taint it.

Couldn’t think of anything much at all with Harry still wrapped around him, and didn’t really want to. Harry was delicious, always had been, though Draco hated him like poison. And the feel of his slight, firm body against Draco’s, and the hardness of his cock pressing against Draco’s thigh, and knowing that Ron was watching, _longing,_ made it impossible for Draco to tear himself away _._

“Do you want to fuck him?” Ron asked Harry in an odd voice - part angry, part aroused. Draco felt Harry tense at the thought.

“You want to, don’t you Potter,” Draco said, sliding his mouth over the fullness of Harry’s bottom lip, running his tongue along it. “And Weasley wants to watch.” Harry made a helpless sound that went straight to Draco’s cock.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said.

“It’s not arithmency for God’s sake, you just do what you do with the Weasley girl. Lie down and stick your dick in my…” 

Draco, glancing at Harry’s face, decided to shut up of his own accord for once. He didn’t want to guilt Harry’s erection away, however fun it was to torment him. 

“Take his clothes off, Harry,” said Ron, voice uneven. Draco felt Ron’s hands at his waist, undoing his belt, sliding his trousers down his legs. Harry pulled Draco’s shirt off over his head, then his own. 

He noticed Harry staring at his chest. 

“Admiring your work?” Draco asked him. He traced a finger along the jagged, zig-zagging scar. “It’s never healed completely you know, still hurts when I touch it. That was a really dark bit of magic you used.” Draco took Harry’s hand and pressed his fingertips to the scar. Harry snatched his hand away with a cry. 

“Burns, doesn’t it? That’s what happens with a spell like that. Prick,” said Draco, and kissed him hard. Before Harry could even react Draco was pressing his hand to Harry’s erection, tracing a thumb across the skin of his stomach before popping the button of Harry’s jeans open. He lowered his mouth to the place where his thumb had just been and Harry jumped. 

“Are you going to...oh, _God_ …” 

Draco said nothing, just pressed his mouth to Harry’s stomach, and then lower, hands working to pull the other boy’s cock out of his jeans. Harry let out a strangled moan and jerked his hips up, his cock coming free of his clothes and slapping up against his stomach. Draco took a firm hold of it with one hand, leaning on Harry’s hip with all his weight with the other. 

“Stop fucking squirming and let me suck you off, idiot,” he said. Harry went deeply red and closed his eyes. 

“I’m going to get him ready for you,” said Ron to Harry, pulling Draco’s underwear to his ankles. 

“I can do it myself Weasley, just, _oh…”_  Ron was stroking a finger across his hole, wet with lube, his other hand brushing lightly over Draco’s erection. He pressed back against Ron’s hand but Ron grabbed him hard at the waist and stopped him. 

“You concentrate on Harry,” he said, shoving him forwards slightly, and Draco wanted to whimper with arousal. He loved Ron’s large strong hands on him, and he loved it even more when Ron gave him orders. 

“Get on the floor,” Draco said to Harry, and Harry did, eyes enormous in his head. Without giving Harry time to think about it, he licked the length of his cock. 

“Oh, _God_ ,” Harry managed before Draco sank his whole mouth over the head of it and Harry’s whole body arched up off the floor. Ron pressed two fingers inside Draco at that moment, and he moaned long and hard around Harry. He could come like this, he thought, he could come just like this, full at both ends, Ron’s long fingers fucking him. But he wanted to sit on Harry, make him watch Draco riding him, make him come to pieces. 

He took his mouth away from Harry and looked at Ron behind him. “I’m ready,” he said. “He’s not even big anyway.” 

Ron ignored Draco’s comment and lifted him by the waist, forcing him to straddle Harry. Draco resisted a little just to feel Ron’s strength used against him, but Ron knew what he was doing and wouldn’t indulge him. Anyway, he was too turned on to fuck about any more; he wanted Harry inside him now. He took hold of Harry’s cock roughly and pressed it against his hole, sinking onto him, letting out an involuntary moan as he did it. 

“Fuck, Malfoy.” Harry panted and threw his head back, throat stretched and bare. So vulnerable.  He’d probably fuck like a teenager, Draco thought briefly; just bang, bang, bang till he came. Not that Draco didn’t enjoy being used like that to be fair. 

Ron slid a hand under his jaw and tilted Draco’s face up to his and Draco knew the question he was asking. He leant forward without a word and took the head of Ron’s cock into his mouth, holding Ron’s hips tightly as Harry started to move inside him. 

A wave of Ron’s thoughts overtook him again. 

_Look at Harry, he_

_He’s fucking Malfoy so hard, if only I_

_God I want him_

_Malfoy’s mouth it’s so Oh it’s_

_Wet and_

_Looking up at me, so filthy want to come all over him_

_In his hair_

_Jesus, Harry’s going to, I’ve never watched him_

_He’s_

Draco sucked Ron’s cock deeper into his mouth and Ron gave a long moan and twisted his fingers painfully in Draco’s hair. It felt so good, he was so _full_. Harry was relentless and self-centred just like Draco thought he would be, gripping his hips and banged up into him as hard as he could. He was panting, stealing glances at Ron, closing his eyes as if it was too much, then looking at Ron again. It was as if Draco wasn’t there.

Draco pulled his mouth off Ron for a moment. He’d _make_ Potter look at him.

“Touch me, you selfish dick,” he said to Harry and Harry’s eyes snapped from Ron back to him, looking at him in glazed confusion.

“You don’t have to Harry,” Ron said, voice rough. “He’ll come without it.” And just hearing him say that was almost enough to finish Draco off. Because he would if Ron told him to and Ron knew he would, the bastard.

Ron took a handful of Draco’s hair and guided his mouth back to his cock. Draco opened up and swallowed it down as far as he could, watching Harry’s face as he did so. He started sucking up and down on Ron as sloppily as possible, making sure Harry could see how wet, how deep, how hard. How much Ron was loving it.

And Ron was so close now, he didn’t even have to read his thoughts to know that. Draco felt Ron’s muscles tensing, his long thighs beautifully sculpted, his arse clenching under Draco’s hands, desperate little noises coming from him. Fuck, he was so...he wanted to make him come so hard in front of Harry, let Harry see how Draco turned him on, how he wanted him. 

He slid a finger inside Ron and “ _Oh_ ,” was all Ron managed as his hips thrust forward and pushed his cock deep into Draco’s throat. Draco could see Ron looking at Harry and Harry looking at Ron, and then yes, and yes, Ron spilled hot into Draco’s mouth as Harry watched every moment.

Draco wrapped his hand around Ron’s subsiding cock, licking it clean.

“That’s how he likes it, Potter,” he said to Harry. “Think you could do it?” 

“Shut...up Malfoy, for god’s sake,” said Ron, still breathless from his orgasm.

Harry arched up into Draco, causing Draco to make a sound that was frankly obscene. Jesus, he was pushing so deep.  He let himself think not just about punishing Harry and fucking things up between him and Ron, but that this was _Harry Potter_.  He was riding Harry Potter, and causing him to make those helpless noises and those pleading little ‘ _fuck_ ’s, and he was going to make him come. And _yes_ , Draco would come _on_ him, on his face, on his stupid fucking glasses, just as Harry was coming in Draco’s arse. He began riding Harry in earnest now, unable to help the constant panting moans it set off in him. 

“Oh,” said Harry. “That’s so...oh don’t stop doing…”

Ron was still holding a handful of Draco’s hair, and Draco tilted his head back to look up at him.

“I want to touch myself. Can I…please…”

Draco knew Ron hated him asking for these permissions, but Draco couldn’t stop himself. He had been taught very strictly to always ask, first by Dolahov, and then by everyone else who’d come after him.   

Ron made an exasperated sound. “Don’t,” he said. “I’ve told you not to ask me this shit.”

Draco swore with frustration, knowing Ron wouldn’t answer the same question again. He pushed away the memory of what had happened the times he’d come without asking first. _No_. Ron wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do anything like that… 

He leaned back, rocking himself onto Harry, his cock heavy and hard. Just a couple of strokes and he’d be there. _God_. Why couldn’t he just...He couldn’t ask Harry to let him, he couldn’t. 

“Malfoy,” Harry moaned, making an impatient sound and digging his fingers roughly into Draco’s waist as he pushed up into him.

“Get off,” said Draco, wrenching Harry’s hands off him and leaning forward to trap them under his own at either side of Harry’s head. Harry struggled, his green eyes almost black with arousal. _Liked it a bit rough, then_. He leant even more heavily on Harry, clamping his hips between his thighs so that he couldn’t move. 

“I’m not going to keep going if you don’t start touching me,” he said, smiling nastily at him. “Even you can’t fuck up a hand job.”

But Ron intervened.

“I’ll make him come,” he said to Harry. “It’ll feel amazing.”

Draco thought for a moment of refusing, of not letting Ron use him as a fucking… _sex toy_ for Potter. But _oh_ , oh my god, Ron was behind him, pulling him upright, tugging his head back, sucking on his neck. He stroked and twisted at Draco’s nipples, shivered fingers down over Draco’s stomach, then encircled his cock, stroking hard and fast and he couldn’t...couldn’t _breathe_ …he was…no, not without asking…and fuck he didn’t want to ask in front of Harry but oh he was so _close_.

“Please, Ron…” he gasped. “Please can I…”

“Yes,” Ron said against his throat, and that was enough.

He clung to Ron as he let himself go. The first spurt of his orgasm striped across Harry’s jaw and the next on his neck and fuck, it was beautiful. Harry’s eyes were closed because he was coming too, in shouting gasps, every muscle in his body taut. 

Draco wrenched himself from Ron’s grasp and leant forward, smearing some of his come into Harry’s open mouth with his thumb. He followed with a kiss – let Harry taste Draco and Ron at the same time.

Ron dragged him back up. “Leave him alone,” he said, and Draco laughed and turned to kiss him as well, deep and slow, just the way he liked it. 

“Did you enjoy watching that, Weasley?” he said, biting at Ron’s jaw. “You’re much filthier than I ever suspected you know.” 

He felt Harry struggle out from underneath him and looked up to see him sitting against the wall, breathing hard, head in his hands.

“Harry…” Ron said. Harry raised his head slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“We’re all a bit drunk,” Ron began, but Harry cut him off.

“Doesn’t matter, I still shouldn’t have...” 

Ron tried again. “It just happened Harry.” Ron reached out, put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot? Because it doesn’t to me,” Harry said. 

“Ron’s a bit hotter than you, has to be said,” said Draco. Harry ignored him as usual, the rude wanker. He wondered briefly if either of them suspected that the curse that had rebounded from Ron had passed over to Harry as well; that they’d all been slightly hexed or cursed or generally messed up. Well, even if that was so, Draco thought, he definitely wasn’t going to admit to anything. And it wasn’t his fault, not really. 

“Ginny…” Harry was saying. He didn’t finish. Ron snatched his hand away and stood up. 

“Just...let’s get dressed. Have a drink or something,” Ron said. Harry shook his head slowly, gathering his clothes together and holding them in front of him, not looking anyone in the eye. 

“Come on Harry, it’s okay…” 

“We shouldn’t have done this. Not like this,” Harry said, standing up. Turning his back on both of them, he abruptly slammed into his bedroom. 

Draco rolled his eyes. Ron kicked the doorframe of his room hard enough for it to splinter, then covered his face and let out a bitter laugh. 

“He’ll get over it,” Draco said. “The bloody fuss you Gryffindors make about sex, honestly.” 

“You don’t know Harry,” said Ron briefly, and left it at that. 

“You and Potter,” Draco began. “Did you hope…?” Why on earth was he asking. He knew exactly what Ron had hoped. Ron shrugged. 

“He’ll get over it,” Draco said. _Wait, he’d already said that._

"No. I think it’s fucked now,” said Ron, looking thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure. It probably always was.” 

“Bit like you and me. Fucked from the start,” said Draco, then wished he could bite his tongue out. He looked away from Ron and sent a quiet ‘reparo’ at the door instead. 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so fucked if you weren’t an ex-Deatheater. And you weren’t such a dick all the time. And if you stopped using dark magic, at least on me. And if I didn’t have to tell you when to come because that’s really annoying…” 

Draco opened his mouth to retort but found himself starting to laugh instead and Ron caught his eye and began laughing too. He leant against the door frame with his arms folded and looked at Draco. 

“Aren’t you coming in then?” he said. 

“Why Weasley, because I’m such wonderful company?” 

Ron shrugged. “Better than a kick in the teeth.” 

Draco thought briefly about apparating to his room at the Leaky Cauldron. but bed with Ron suddenly seemed appealing and - he could barely admit this, even to himself - safe. He was so tired all of a sudden. Anyway he was almost guaranteed a fuck in the morning. 

“Are you going to stay this miserable all night?” he asked Ron. 

“Probably.” 

“I suppose it’s not every day you watch someone else shag the love of your life. And them loving it,” Draco said, yawning. 

“This is exactly what I mean Malfoy, you arsehole. What is it in your brain that makes you say these things?” 

Draco didn’t think even he wanted to know the answer to that. 

“Alright, the topic of the Boy Who Came is off limits,” said Draco. “I can cheer you up with stories of the good old days in the Slytherin common room if you like though. Oh, those were the days. Did I tell you about the time I made Marcus Flint kiss my Dark Mark? I was...”

  
“Oh my fucking god, shut up,” said Ron, and dragged Draco into his room, kicking the door shut behind them.


End file.
